Hurt me like a Friend
by jadomil
Summary: Who can hurt you the most? Written for a comment ficathon, that means it had to be shorter than 4300 characters /about 800 words/. The prompt: Bill/Tigh, old friend. Spoilers for the episode 4x10 "Revelations".


_Author's Note: Many thanks to Mirwalker for his help._

* * *

**Hurt me like a friend**

Adama paced back and forth in his quarters, his hand clutching his fourth glass of ambrosia that evening. He was thinking of Saul Tigh.

Friend. Comrade.

Cylon.

Anger burned in Bill's stomach, fueled by the alcohol. He felt betrayed and weak, yet at the same time he was grieving the loss of his best friend. He hadn't talked to Saul since his confession. He had seen him from a distance on that wasteland called Earth, but that... woman had been with him and Bill just couldn't talk to him then. Couldn't forgive him. Deep down Bill had hoped that they would work it out like they always did but he had been wrong. Saul didn't return to duty.

Bill felt the anger building up inside him and threatening to engulf him. Hiding like a wounded animal wouldn't solve anything. He drained his glass and left his quarters. It was time for a confrontation.

Saul didn't look surprised when he let Bill in. He had probably expected him, Bill mused, and it was obvious that he hadn't been looking forward to this visit. He stood there in the middle of his quarters, averted his unshaven face and kept silent. Bill couldn't help but notice that the floor was littered with empty bottles and ground his teeth in frustration. He should have been expecting this, but Saul hadn't been drinking in the months before and ironically Bill had taken it as a good sign. He should have known that a sober Saul was a dead giveaway that something was wrong.

Bill was barely able to contain his rage. "You didn't show up for duty."

"My work is done." There was no emotion in Saul's voice.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bill tried hard not to shout. He clenched his fists until his fingernails bit into his palms.

Saul was still staring at the floor. "I led you to that frakking hellhole, didn't I? Earth," he nearly spit that last word out.

"Enough!" Bill lost his patience. He grabbed a surprised Saul by the throat and hauled him again the nearest wall, getting into his face and forcing him to finally look at him. He wanted to fight, to hurt Saul as much as he had hurt him, but then it hit him how close he had come to losing Saul.

"So you just wanted to die?" He only wanted to make Tigh talk, damn it, but he could see Saul's eye widening in response and realized that he had been right. It came as a shock. Bill stumbled back a step. The low hum of Galactica's engines mingled with the sound of his blood pulsing in his ears.

"It was the right thing." Saul snapped his chin up defiantly but to Bill he seemed lost and scared.

Bill understood him. It was easier to die than to keep on struggling, and Saul's sacrifice would have saved them all. The perfect way out. Oh, he understood only too well. That was why they were best friends, why they needed each other. But Bill had broken down when he realized that this flawed human being he called his friend had been a machine all along, and he had driven Saul away, right into the arms of that Cylon woman.

A surge of jealousy surged through him and Bill pushed Saul against the wall again. He was ready for a fight but his body seemed to have another idea. He pressed against Saul and kissed him hard. Fire spread through his body like rage and in an angry attack he bit Saul's lip until he could taste blood. "Is that how you like it?", he panted, remembering the bruised face Saul had tried to hide after 'interrogating' their Cylon prisoner.

Saul stopped struggling. He moaned and squeezed Bill's shoulders hard before he pulled him closer and rasped his stubbled chin over Bill's cheek.

"You're an officer first." Bill's gravelly voice was a growl. His hand closed around the dog tags on Saul's heaving chest. He yanked the chain lightly before he stepped back on shaking knees, breathing heavily, and straightened his uniform jacket. "You'll be in CIC tomorrow morning. That's an order." A gulp of air. "Understood?"

Saul pushed himself from the wall and stood straight, still panting for air. "Yes, Sir."

They stared into each other's eyes until Bill broke the contact and turned to leave. He opened the door and looked back over his shoulder. "Tomorrow."

"Got it," Saul said in a low voice.

Bill stepped outside and in the moment before the hatch sealed shut with a metallic clang he thought he heard the whispered words "old friend".


End file.
